âa-alright.â although harukawa isnât as validating as momota, not by a long shot, saihara notes that she doesnât really seem mad. heâs not the sort of guy to feel intimidated by a girl being able to one-up him, especially not in a context like this. heâs never been the best, and heâs comfortable with that.
but his cheeks do burn when she makes that comment, eyes instinctively jerking towards her skirt and then immediately moving anywhere else. he stares at a patch of grass instead, trying to mimic harukawaâs stretch from memory, without having to look at her legs. after a few moments, he gives up, guiltily stealing a glance to assess her posture before fixing his own.
when he flexes his toes, he lets out a hiss of pain, finding it difficult to breathe again. and he has to bend over, too? bravado still intact for the time being, saihara raises his arms and attempts to bend. his breath stutters. keep it even, he thinks, but heâs letting out shallow gasps, little sounds of effort, and, occasionally, a string of ow-ow-ow-ow.
heâs faring better than before, though, even despite feeling like his legs and lungs are going to fall apart.
âalright.â itâs so difficult to tell what maki is feeling from her voice. does she approve? does she think heâs doing well? perhaps, but thereâs no way for saihara to know. as heâs already noted, sheâs not nearly as affirming as momota. âstand up. loosen yourself up a bit before the next one.â
if he remains this tense, heâs never going to achieve anything. part of makiâs skill is in her incredible flexibility-- she can squeeze into tight spots, dodge blows and even bullets with precision. of course sheâs a lot stronger than she looks, but assassination isnât about brute force. itâs about technique.
which is what sheâs trying to teach saihara here. itâs something he wonât be able to understand from momota... if momota ever bothers to come to their training sessions again, that is.
âjust do what i do,â she tells him. from there, she shakes her arms out, then lifts them over her head and stretches until thereâs a small âpopâ in her shoulders. the movement exposes her midriff, and two glaring, ugly scars there, marring her skin. she doesnât seem to take notice as she pops her neck as well, relieving the tension there.